A/N: I'm so happy with all the views and stuff this story got so quickly, I decided to post the first real chapter. But here are some quick things I should add;

1. Tobias in this story looks like Theo James (he was amazing as four in the movie btw!) but without all the muscle. I can't have him so muscular because he has never been trained with the Dauntless in this story, and is meant to be weak.

2. I know that Tris has bluish eyes but I was thinking about Shai from the movie and her eyes were a hazel/blue color so I just went with hazel.

Chapter One

The minute he walks into the room, I know that Marcus wasn't lying. This boy is practically a copy of Marcus. He has the strong jawline and the piercing eyes- except none of the real masculine build that Marcus gives off. He is obviously a teenager, most likely around my age, but his eyes look more like those of a young boy. However, he doesn't walk freely or carelessly. I notice immediately how stiff his shoulders are, and how uncomfortable he is, just by the way that he walks into the room.

"Meet Tobias," Marcus says, nodding towards his son. Tobias. I recognize the name from a book that I once read. It's old sounding and probably means something of importance. Gazing up at him, I can finally see the rest of his features. He wears a black shirt that seems to suit him, and dark jeans. They are ripped up in multiple places. Everything about him seems to look like that he has been working outside, or wandering through the forest or something. His stare finally wanders up to me, and I look at him straight in the eye for just a moment. I'm not really sure of what- but immediately I can feel something. The dead, lifeless look that he has seems to match my own. We have both been through something... horrible.

"Both bedrooms are upstairs," Marcus adds, breaking the silence between Caleb, Tobias and I. I pull back into reality and blink my eyes for a second, trying to get rid of the shocked countenance that I am sure is on my face. "Let me give you the tour."

Marcus easily snatches our bags, handing my own to Tobias, who rolls his eyes.

"I can carry mine," I mutter, stepping forward, but Marcus stops me.

"No need for that. Just follow me."

There is something hostile in his voice, but I cannot tell if it was directed towards me or towards Tobias, who looks extremely on edge. It's bluntly obvious that Caleb and I have arrived just after some sort of long fight. There is extreme tension in the air, but I refrain from asking.

Following along, I eagerly try to get a glimpse of everything around me. The house is beautiful. Each curtain is intricate in design, and decorations and paintings practically fill the walls. The stairs are made of a dark hardwood floor, and each one begins to creak as we step. Caleb looks unsure, but I am not scared. I'm tired of always being so scared. In fact, the creaks seem to calm me down. They have given me just a small reminder that there could still be the strong version of myself left, somewhere inside my soul that has just recently turned ice cold.

We reach the top of the stairs and I rest my eyes on Tobias's back. He has not turned around yet, even though Marcus has been consistently looking back on us. Caleb breathes a sigh of relief as the noises of the steps stop, but I find myself feeling just a bit emptier. The reminder of my strength is already fading away..

The paint upstairs is much different than the pale color downstairs. This time it is a dark shade of gold. The color is almost blinding.

"Through there is the office," Marcus points at an open room. The ground is cluttered completely in books and sheets of paper. I break apart from the group and walk into the room, eager to see anything that I can. The books are all classics. Stories that we would have up in our attic, if Caleb hadn't grown such a liking towards them. They each seem to be coated in dust. Everything in the room has an old, dusty quality to it, except for the TV. However, there is a large price tag on the side. Big enough to be distracting, and I wonder why they kept it on there.

"This is strange," Caleb suddenly says from next to me.

"I know," I answer, shaking my head, "But we have to get used to it."

"This entire place is just sort of creepy."

I nod in agreement, but keep my eyes focused on the other parts to the clutter on the floor. There are plenty of broken pencils and dried bits of paint.

"Come on," an unfamiliar voice announces. I turn around to see Tobias at the door. His arms are crossed and his eyebrows are down, but his focus is only on me. He looks as if he has caught me committing a crime, and Caleb is just an innocent witness. What have I done to already piss him off?

"We were just admiring your collection of books," Caleb lies, forcing a smile, "You've got great titles."

"I like to read," Tobias sneers.

"Really?" I question, taking a shuffled step forward, "You would think that by now, the friendly characters would have rubbed off on you."

Marcus suddenly interrupts our disagreement. "I think," he adds, "that Tobias prefers the villains."

I can tell that Marcus is lying.

My bedroom lacks personality.

There is almost nothing hanging on the wall. Apart from a plain bed and a table, the only other real decoration is a clock and my single suitcase. Tobias and Marcus had left me in here to look around, but already I can feel the room beginning to suck even more life out of me. Luckily, Caleb is only a door away.

And, upsettingly, so is Tobias.

All three of our rooms are in this upstairs hallway. Marcus sleeps in a master bedroom downstairs, although I think that his would be even more lonely than my own. I have no business asking the whereabouts of his wife, or ex-wife, but it still interests me. Caleb might know something, if I can remember to ask him later on.

There is a loud knock on the door, which only startles me for a second, but it feels good to feel something again. Even if it is something like shock.

"Come in," I say with my back turned to the door, "Caleb, I don't think-"

It's not Caleb.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Tobias comments. He doesn't look quite as upset as before.

"You didn't scare me."

"Of course I didn't. I just wanted to talk to you," he says.

"About?"

"Well, you are living in my house now. Don't you want to know some details?"

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